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It had been a while since Allie had tried to sleep in a new bed—alone, anyway. Apparently she was bad at it. And this room made her feel as though she had to be sure she didn’t drool or sweat during the night. Her someday-mansion would feel welcoming and comfortable to anyone. Even her brothers.
She put the earplugs in, hoping they’d trigger some kind of Pavlovian sleep response.
They didn’t.
Finally the obvious hit her.
No one was forcing her to lie here. Erik was asleep; no one else was around. She’d wanted to go for a moonlit walk? She could do that. Right now. Sliding out of bed, she stuffed the earplugs into the pocket of her sleep shirt.
Hell, if she wanted to, she could dance naked on the beach all night long.
3
JONAS TURNED ONTO I-87 from Route 7, after skirting Albany. Forty-five minutes, give or take, and he’d be at Morningside a day earlier than expected. Funny, now that he was on his way, he couldn’t get there fast enough. The feel of the breeze, the way the woods smelled, the sand under his feet, the clear water around his body—it was like returning to the best part of his childhood. Maybe it was the best part. The one place his parents had relaxed their rules, or at least some of them.
His client had canceled dinner that afternoon, then Sandra texted him that she’d agreed to take over a Friday night gig for an ill friend, so would be delayed leaving. She’d encouraged him to go without her, saying she’d drive out the next morning. Jonas had protested, but not very strenuously—the idea of leaving the hot, crowded city behind him after a long week had been too seductive.
And Allie. What was it about a few perfunctory emails that had intrigued him so much? He knew plenty of smart, funny women in Boston. Most likely his memory of her from that dinner at Christmastime had been warped by time into a fantasy. Fantasy had an unfortunate way of beating reality. Case in point: he had believed Missy was a good life-match for him, while she’d been off spending his money and screwing one of her investment firm colleagues.
Plus, Erik might truly like Allie in a deeper way than usual, and she might have changed and truly like him. Someone like Allie would be good for Erik, settle him down, give him something to think and care about other than his own needs and desires.
Blink 182’s Neighborhoods ended; he fumbled around for his iPod and selected his favorite Red Hot Chili Peppers album, Stadium Arcadium, absently wondering what kind of music Allie liked, and whether Erik had entertained or appalled her on the drive up with his penchant for hard rock and heavy metal.
He’d better get Allie out of his head. Erik had described this trip as his best chance with the woman he wanted to marry. Jonas wouldn’t break the brother code of ethics by trying to get close to her himself.
But he might have to come to terms someday with being hot for his sister-in-law.
* * *
ALLIE STOOD AT the lake’s edge, enjoying the water’s surprising warmth lapping at her feet. This was fabulous! The moon was just over half full, but so bright, even through a thin layer of cloud cover, that she hadn’t bothered bringing out her flashlight. The pleasantly cool breeze kept any bugs at bay. She’d made a good decision to come out here instead of lying in that too-perfect room trying to force her body to sleep.
She strolled toward the boathouse, relishing the rolling splash of waves, the distant creak of tree trunks, the occasional glimpse of a bat. At the boathouse, she peered inside a window and was able to discern a few shadows that might be canoes or kayaks, she wasn’t sure.
Farther up the beach and toward the woods, the cottage tempted her. Moving closer, she could see a deck on the beach side of the house, on which sat a table and chairs. The perfect spot for sunning, reading or sipping cocktails. At the door, she hesitated before trying the knob. Locked up tight, she was sure.
It wasn’t.
Feeling guilty for preempting Erik’s tour, she couldn’t resist her curiosity and pushed the door open. The cottage was dimly lit by the moonlight through the windows, but she could make out a cozy cabin with all the comforts of home—even what appeared to be a tiny kitchen. This was her kind of luxury.
Feeling the need to be quiet, even though there was no way Erik could hear her, she tiptoed around the couch, past the fireplace, toward stairs to what turned out to be a charming bedroom with a wall of windows facing the lake. She crossed to the bed, a king on a frame high enough that sleepers could easily see the view, climbed on it and shuffled on her knees toward the glass to look out at the water. Somewhere close by, a loon called out, a long, mournful cry and trill. What a wonderful place to sleep, tucked away almost in the woods, yet close to the lake. If this were her property, she wouldn’t go near the big house.
Erik wouldn’t even have to know if she slept there tonight. She’d wake up early with the sun most likely, and be back in the main house before he stirred. Judging by how often he was late to work in the mornings, he was not an early riser.
She pulled back the covers to find soft cotton sheets waiting for her. The pillows were piled high, real down pillows like those at Dad’s, the kind her family hadn’t been able to afford. They always had enough to eat―that was their luxury.
Temptation warred inside her with a touch of anxiety. This wasn’t her home. Erik had his mother’s room prepared for her. There might be some reason she shouldn’t be out here. Maybe Jonas would want to stay in the cottage when he arrived the next day.
Or it might be completely fine.
Unable to decide, she cheated by lying down on top of the bed, scooting to the side closest to the windows. Within minutes she was yawning, as if it were completely natural to her body to sleep there. Giving in with only a slight qualm, she fished out her earplugs, put them in and let herself drift off.
* * *
JONAS INCHED HIS Toyota Camry to a halt a few yards from his brother’s beloved Mercedes sports coupe. The wind had picked up considerably in the last half hour, so there was little chance Erik or Allie would hear him arrive. He cut the engine, got out and inhaled the gusting lake air greedily. It was nice to be back. Assuming the place sold quickly, this would probably be his last pleasure trip here. Visits from now on would involve packing, sorting, throwing stuff away...
He didn’t want to think about that now.
Lifting his bag out of the backseat, he closed the door and walked up to the dark, still house, where Erik and Allie were sleeping. Alone? Together? Alone tonight at least, he decided. Erik would wait until Allie was comfortable here before he made the big move.
For a full minute, Jonas stood in the clearing, gazing at Morningside. Again, he was gripped by emotions—longing, pleasure, affection. Many years of good times in that house, going back as far as his recollections.
A burst of wind brought the first drops of rain and he turned toward the cottage, which Clarissa, the wife of their caretaker, George, kept cleaned, aired out and well-stocked, as well as the house. He’d texted Erik that he’d be arriving a day early but wasn’t sure his brother had read the message, since he hadn’t replied. Barging into the house unexpectedly could be an unpleasant surprise. Jonas didn’t want his second meeting with Allie to take place in the middle of the night after he’d just terrified her. And he wasn’t in the mood to face his brother’s smug I’m-gonna-score-this-weekend certainty.
A grumble of thunder quickened his steps across the neatly mown grass that managed to grow in the sandy soil by the house. He stepped into the cottage just as the storm hit, wiped a drop of rain off his forehead and grinned at the familiar, dimly lit interior. This had been his refuge when he was too teenager-cool for his old room and his parents.
He spent a few minutes walking around, touching old memories. Still-life paintings his grandmother Bridget had done of flower gardens and seashell-strewn beaches. Knickknacks bought on various family trips abroad—his mother’s clan had been avid travelers. Fertility figures from Ghana, nesting dolls from Russia, stone turtles from Hawaii...
Wind and rain buffeted the house, making creaks that sounded like soft footsteps overhead. Jonas unpacked his toiletry kit, brushed his teeth and washed his face in the kitchen sink. The upstairs, with no windows facing west, would be black as a cave, and he’d forgotten to bring a flashlight. The little cottage had never been wired for electric power.
Lightning illuminated the stairs as he made his way toward them. He loved lying in bed watching storms like this blow over the water.
In the bedroom, he dumped his clothes, found the bed by feel and crawled in naked, enjoying the moonless midnight-blackness between the flashes of lightning, already growing further apart. It was a fast-moving storm, probably not that close. He wouldn’t see much drama up here tonight. One summer a house across the lake had been badly damaged by a lightning strike.
Closing his eyes, he relaxed, concentrating on the steady pummeling of rain on the roof, directly over his head. He’d had good times in this bed. Lost his virginity here, when their summer neighbor Sally Sampson, older than he was by a few years, decided it was time he got started.
He hadn’t objected.
She’d sneaked into the cottage one night and had woken him with her mouth, doing things that at that age he’d only read about....
Nice memory. His dick certainly remembered, was already standing hopefully at attention. Jonas shifted to his side, experiencing a mild disorientation when the king mattress seemed to move too much.
What was that?
Probably sinus pressure messing with his sense of balance and motion. Long drives could bring it on. Storms usually made it worse.
The cottage hadn’t seen any action from him since Sally. The first and only time he’d invited a girlfriend up here, his parents had gone so ridiculously overboard making sure they were never alone long enough to have sex, that Maria had gone home days early and dumped him soon after. He hadn’t bothered trying again. His parents firmly believed that all women wanted from Erik and Jonas was to get pregnant and trap them and their Meyer money. Given his experience with Missy, he was starting to wonder if they were onto something.
His eyes opened. Allie wasn’t in that camp if she’d resisted Erik for this long.
Lightning flashed.
Huh? In his peripheral vision, he could have sworn...
It flashed again.
What the—
Allie?
Good God. Had he conjured her up? Hallucinated her? Why didn’t he notice her before when lightning lit the room? Did she know he was there?
He stared at the blackness, frozen in surprise, heart pounding.
What now?
Maybe she didn’t know he was there. Maybe she’d been in the bathroom when he came upstairs? Crazy coincidence.
“Allie,” he called softly.
No answer.
The storm renewed itself, rain that had been tapering off hammered again, thunder rumbled louder.
Back asleep already? She couldn’t be. Sleepwalking, then?
“Allie?” He tried louder, worried he’d terrify her. His heart had nearly stopped when he saw her, but at least he knew she and Erik were on the property. She thought he was still in Boston.
Maybe he should just sneak out. If she caught him, okay, at least he’d be an intruder in her bedroom, not in her bed.
Small problem: he was naked. Should he get out of the bed and risk fumbling for his clothes on the floor? Better just to go downstairs and get more from his bag.
Another problem: she’d been able to get into bed with him, and he’d registered her only peripherally, but he was considerably larger. If he moved, she’d notice.
Damn.
A bad situation. He’d just have to choose one of the equally bad options.
As carefully as he could, Jonas lifted the covers...
* * *
ALLIE’S EYES SHOT open in the dark. What the hell was that? The mattress had moved. She swore it had.
It moved again.
Erik.
She was going to kill him.
No, torture him, and then kill him.
Of all the sleazy....
She tore out her earplugs, unaware the storm had gotten so bad. Why hadn’t she brought a flashlight?
Lightning provided what she needed: a view of Erik, in bed next to her! The jerk!
She didn’t think twice, turned and shoved him with her feet as hard as she could. He shot off the bed and landed with a thud on the floor.
“Ow!”
Served him right. “What the hell do you think you’re trying to pull?”
“Nothing!”
“For God’s sake, Erik,” she shouted. Honestly. The only thing stupider than a horny guy was...an amoeba.
“I’m not Erik,” he bellowed. A flash of lightning showed that he’d stood up. He wasn’t wearing anything. And he wasn’t Erik.
Jeez-o-Pete. The Meyer slimeball brothers. What had Jonas thought? A few friendly emails meant he could just sneak into her bedroom and—
She blinked, her brain catching up to her eyeballs. What a great body.
“What are you doing here? You’re not even supposed to be here. Especially not naked!”
The rain slacked off abruptly, leaving her last word shrieked into relative silence.
“Allie.” Lightning showed him holding the bedspread over his best bits. “I didn’t know you were in here. I came to the cottage so I wouldn’t bother you and Erik, arriving at the big house so late.”
Her breath was still coming fast. She didn’t know when she’d experienced such a huge adrenaline rush, first fear, then anger. So it took a while for his words to sink in. To process them. To make them appear possible. The rain calmed further.
“Just hang on. Let me get dressed and find a light.”
She waited, trying to understand what had happened. She’d been asleep. Had woken up, needing to use the bathroom. Had trouble finding it, trouble using it in the total darkness. Made her way carefully back, annoyed at the lightning for holding off when she needed its brilliance. She’d gotten back into bed and sensed him when he moved.
She heard a thud, followed by a curse. Allie grinned savagely in the dark, still shaky and breathless. Served him right. “Having fun?”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks. I’m sure I can just hobble for the rest of my life. Hold on, there’s a kerosene lamp over here somewhere.”
Long pause. Another thud. Another curse. Allie snorted. This sounded like a Three Stooges movie.
“You don’t have to enjoy my pain.”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
“There.” A glimmer as he struck a match, then fed the flame to the wick of a kerosene lamp and replaced the chimney. A soft glow filled the room and showed that he was now wearing jeans. And that he was even more gorgeous than she remembered, with Erik’s blue eyes and strong chin, but darker hair, thicker and curling.
No, no. Until he proved he didn’t deserve her fury and outrage, she could not risk melting into lust.
“So.” She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing he wasn’t getting his second view of her with advanced bedhead and no makeup, wearing a shapeless sleep shirt. “What happened?”
“My dinner appointment tonight canceled, I texted Erik that I was coming. I arrived, came up here, got into bed and you joined me.” He lifted his hands and let them slap down on his thighs. Long, solid, very nice thighs. Not that she was looking. “Nice to see you again, by the way.”
“Well...oh.” What was she supposed to do with that story? So devoid of evil or plot or menace of any kind. Almost disappointing.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Allie. If it’s any consolation, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you next to me. I thought I was alone in here, had started drifting off, listening to the rain, then the lightning flashed and guess what?” He mimed comic terror, clutching his chest, mouth hanging open, eyes bulging with shock.
Allie smiled unwillingly and shrugged, her breathing slowing down. “Well, I guess it’s just a big, weird mess.”
